Pink
by knowregrets
Summary: Beth has sacrificed her dreams of University to look after her sister. But things are not as straightforward as she had hoped. When weird things start happening around her sister, Katie, who can Beth turn to for help?


AN: This world, and any characters you recognise, do not belong to me but to JKR

I had a plot bunny bother me suddenly this evening and I had to write it out. So here it is - please review if you enjoy it.

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"Up!" Katie groaned and buried her head in her pillow, "Come on, lazybones! You don't want to be late for school!" Katie's sister was just too awake for that early in the morning.

"Yes I do." Katie grumbled into her pillow.

Beth, however, wasn't having any of it. "Katherine Marie Johnson, you get up right now or …"

"Or what?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

Katie groaned theatrically and sat up. "You are so mean!" she said.

"Yep, I know. I'm competing for the award of most evil big sister in the world – I think I'm in with a good chance this year." Beth was standing looking at her with her arms folded. "Shower, dress and breakfast. Now!"

Katie sighed but got out of bed as her sister disappeared into the kitchen.

It was an ordinary morning, just like every other ordinary morning since their parents died in a car crash the previous year. Beth had been away, travelling, taking a year off before going to university. She had been in Australia when she had heard the news. She'd flown back in shock, the truth hadn't really hit her until she had got back to London and seen Katie. Katie had been staying with a neighbour, as soon as Beth turned up the eight-year-old had rushed into her arms. That had been the trigger and for a while both girls had stood there, holding each other, and crying.

However, Beth had not been allowed the luxury of grieving for too long, the reality had hit her shortly after. Stuck in what seemed to be endless meetings with Social Services, solicitors and accountants, Beth had been shocked that her parents had made absolutely no provisions. There was no will, the life insurance was a pitiful sum and barely covered the funeral expenses, and the house was mortgaged up to the hilt.

A year later and here they were: renting a cheap two bed flat in Clapton, Katie attending the local primary school and Beth working as a in a clothes shop in Carnaby Street. She looked the part, and there was no doubt she was a good sales assistant. But it hadn't exactly been what she had planned.

She worked hard not to let Katie see any of her resentment. And she didn't resent it, not really. There was no way she could let have gone off to university knowing that Katie was living in foster care somewhere. And she could never have afforded to look after Katie if she hadn't been working. As it was she dipped into the pitiful "emergency fund" they had received from the house sale, far too often for her liking.

It hadn't been an easy year. Raising a kid was harder than Beth had ever imagined it would be. The money was easy compared to the emotional side of things. Parental authority did not come easily to someone who had always been the rebellious, cool, big sister. And now, there were bigger concerns.

As the sisters sat munching toast that morning, Beth thought about the previous evening. Katie had come home from school in tears, declaring that she hated it and was never going back. It had taken a long time to get to the root of the problem. Things happened around Katie. Things that never seemed to be Katie's fault, but that never happened around anyone else. The other kids in her class had been teasing her about it; they were ostracising her, calling her weird and other things that were even less polite.

Katie's reluctance to get up that morning was obviously connected. But Beth knew that, if Katie skipped school, two things would happen: the teasing would be worse when she did get back, and she, Beth, would be in trouble with Social Services. No skipping school was not the answer, Beth could only hope that the plan she had come up with in the early hours of the morning, lying sleepless in bed, would work.

Later that morning Beth found herself on a street she never imagined going to again. She didn't know how long she stood there, trying not to look at their old house, trying not to think about their old life, trying to screw up the courage to do what she intended. Maybe she should have dyed her hair back to brown or something first, but that would only have meant re-dying it again afterwards and she didn't really have the money to waste.

'Well honestly', she told herself firmly, 'what is the worst that could happen?' With that she gathered up her courage and walked to the front door of the last house in the street and rang the bell.

The door was opened by a pleasant faced man, probably a little younger than Beth's parents would have been. "Good morning. Can I help you?" he enquired.

"Hello. Um, I'm sorry to bother you. I don't know if you recognise me but I used to live down the road." she waved vaguely in the direction of her old house, "I wondered if I could ask you something?"

"Yes?" The man looked very puzzled.

"Who is it dear?" a woman's voice called out from inside.

"My name is Beth Johnson, and this is kind of awkward it's just …" Beth paused.

"Yes?" he repeated encouragingly.

"It's my little sister. Things, strange things, happen around her. Broken stuff gets mended, that sort of thing." Beth saw a woman arrive behind him, his wife, presumably. "And I thought, I mean I remembered, I mean … I thought you might know something about that sort of thing." Neither person responded but they exchanged a meaningful glance. "It's just us now, you see." Beth continued in a rush, "And I'm not sure, I mean, I thought … I hoped you might be able to give me some advice or something. You see I remember you, from when we lived here, and I thought it might be the sort of thing you might know about."

"You better come in." The woman said to her. They opened the door and showed her into the living room.

In the middle of the room a young girl, about Katie's age, sat. She looked up and stared at Beth. Beth gave the kid a weak smile before the kid's mother shooed her out of the room.

"Do sit down dear," she said to Beth, "now it sounds like your sister might be what we call a Muggle-born witch."

As a much happier Beth disappeared down the street, the woman turned to her husband. "Well!" She said.

"She seemed a nice girl." he responded.

"Yes she did, but honestly! Muggle fashions, I'll never understand."

"I think she looked cool." a young voice spoke from behind. Her parents turned round. Her father looked amused but her mother frowned.

"Turn it back!"

"But I think it suits me."

"I don't care what you think, or what Muggle fashions you like the look of. No daughter of mine is going to walk around with pink hair, turn it back this instant!" she turned back to her husband, "Honestly Ted, what are we going to do with that girl?"

That afternoon Beth could hardly wait for Katie to come home from school. She had so much to tell her. She practically grabbed the girl's schoolbag from her and dragged her into the living room.

"So Katie, you know that stuff that happens sometimes?" Katie nodded, she could hardly forget when all her classmates seemed determined to remind her of it all the time, "Well it isn't because you are weird, it's because you have a special talent. Tell me, how would you like to go and visit some people this Saturday who can do stuff like that too? Including a girl about your age?"

Katie looked up at her sister with hope in her eyes, "Really?"

That night, as Katie slept, Beth went to a locked drawer in her bedroom and pulled out a crumpled piece of yellow paper. She remembered the arguments so well. She had been eleven when the letter came. Her parents had adamantly refused to believe any of it. When the letter was followed by a visit, they had practically kicked the old man out of the house. She had had to sacrifice so much in her life, university, and before that, this. But that wasn't going to happen to Katie. Beth was not going to let that happen to Katie. Katie was not going to have to give up any of her dreams.

She lay on the bed and slowly smoothed the piece of paper out on her pillow and read.

_Dear Miss Johnson,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._


End file.
